


Don't Go Home Without Me

by Meowser_Clancy



Series: Jimel Family AU [6]
Category: Ghost Whisperer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:02:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7817095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowser_Clancy/pseuds/Meowser_Clancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Melinda reflects on life on her thirtieth anniversary of being married to Jim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go Home Without Me

**Author's Note:**

> Aiden 25
> 
> Benny, 20
> 
> Lee, 18
> 
> Oliver, 16
> 
> Andi, 12
> 
> This follows my family AU; they had more kids after Aiden. ALSO, important, just as a reminder or a note for first time readers:   
> When Jim was shot in 4x6: Imaginary Friends and Enemies, he went into shock and lost his MEMORY, not his life. He had amnesia from 4x7-4x18 instead, reverting to a Jim who didn't know Melinda. So it's very similar to how the show went...I just wanted Jim's kids to have his DNA. ♥♥♥

Thirty years. 

Melinda stumbled over the threshold, feeling more tired than she ever had, struggling to pull her rain boots off, hanging her raincoat in the closet, wandering through her empty house. 

This was so weird. So utterly strange, even though just twenty-nine years ago, an empty house was the norm. She almost never came home to find Jim already there in their first few years of marriage. 

And then along had come Aiden; play dates, picking him up on her way home, school things...losing track of time. 

And then Benny, double the time. Lee and Oliver definitely kept her busy, and Andi...she’d almost been the most involved with her youngest.

But now Aiden had moved out; was living in the city currently. She expected him to eventually come home to Grandview but she still wasn’t sure when that would be. 

And Benny and Lee were both in college, something that never failed to astound Melinda; her little babies in college, forging their own paths. It blew her mind. 

And Ollie. Oh, she was worried about him. She didn’t like his new girlfriend but she didn’t know how to tell him that when he clung to her so fiercely.

And Andi, who’d found the best friend of her life, a girl that Melinda fiercely hoped Andi would be able to hold onto forever; a girl like Andrea Marino had been to her years and years ago; a source of unfailing support and love. Her name was Mariah; Melinda couldn’t count on two hands the ways that the two girls had saved each other.  

She was sleeping over; Andi barely had to even ask anymore, the two of them were so damn close, and Melinda never had the heart to say no, even on a school night. 

It was her anniversary, she reflected again, making her way up the stairs after checking to see that all the windows were closed downstairs; it was raining fiercely. Jim had woken her with a morning kiss before he left, but that’s all that had been said. 

She wondered if he’d gotten her flowers; she herself had picked something out for him last week when it came through the shop. 

Anniversaries...they meant a lot to Melinda and Jim. They celebrated the night they met. The night they got engaged. The day that they’d married. Each of their children’s birthdays. 

They always remembered the day that he’d gotten shot. 

They always remembered the day that his memory finally came back to him, and he’d come home to her, all those years ago, before Aiden was born.

She’d almost lost him. 

They celebrated that day, but it was always sobering, a day to take stock, remember what they’d almost lost. 

She always loved Jim doubly on that day; her heart stretched to its capacity with the thankfulness she felt that he had come back to her. 

She walked to the bedroom, feet sore, slipping out of her heels. She should really start listening to Jim and wearing sneakers instead; she wasn’t a young girl anymore and what did she have to prove? 

She chuckled to herself. She knew she’d never stop wearing heels. Being 5’2” was both a blessing and a curse, because it was definitely a gift that Jim could lift her so easily but he’d be able to do that no matter what height she was. 

And a curse...well, if she wasn’t wearing heels she felt smaller. And she couldn’t kiss him as easily. And heels looked professional and cute and unique. 

She slipped into her favorite pair of sneakers with specially ordered inserts that supported her arches just right, sighing from the comfort as she slowly undressed, unzipping the fancy dress she’d worn to work and changing into rompers; comfortable but sexy in case Jim was in the mood.

She hoped he was. She needed his hands on her, comforting, warm, big. 

As her mind turned to Jim, she realized that he’d never texted back when she asked what time he was getting off his shift. 

She went back down the stairs, hurrying a little this time, forgetting her weariness in her hurry to get to her phone and check to see if he’d replied. 

_ Sorry, I was in surgery...emergency situation, it wasn’t good. I’ll be off at 6, might check in on a few patients unofficially so 6:30?  _

She looked at when he’d sent it; 5:49. She looked at the clock now: 6:32. 

**Dinner?** She texted back.

_ Don’t bother.  _

The answer was surprisingly quick and Melinda stood looking at the screen for a few minutes, puzzled. Was he saying don’t save him some? 

She wasn’t sure. 

She was just turning around when the front door opened, and Jim was there, gently tapping his umbrella to knock the water off, and Melinda found herself hurrying, impatiently awaiting him to take off his rain coat.

“Hey,” she said, bouncing on her toes, helping him with the coat and hanging it up on the coat tree; she felt his arms wrap around her from behind and leaned into his chest. “I needed that,” she breathed, her hands landing on his arms, holding him there. 

“Me too,” he breathed, tucking his head into her neck; she could feel the five o’clock shadow on his cheeks, prickling her. 

And she loved this, how male he was, how tall and strong, how his arms were just as comforting for her in her fifties as they had been in her twenties.

“Thirty years,” she breathed, leaning to kiss a muscular forearm. “I’ve had thirty years of your arms around me.” 

They seemed to tighten around her, and he turned, pressing a kiss to her neck. “I love you,” he said simply. “Just as much, if not more, than I did on my wedding day.” 

She turned her head and they kissed, lips meeting as they usually did, with tenderness before it turned to passion, with sweetness and gentle tastes before his hands started to roam, sliding over her body, cupping her breasts, going to her again slim waist, to her hips, finally lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“Wait,” she said, pulling away, and he smiled at her, kissing her lips one more time, taking one more taste. 

“What?” He breathed. “Give me a reason not to make love to you right now in the front hall.” He nipped at her ear, making her heart jump, and her pulse spike; he chuckled to feel it, ever the paramedic at heart even after years of being a surgeon.

“Why did you say no to dinner?” She asked, feeling his lips on her neck, just nuzzling her, tasting her, letting her talk but not pausing in his exploration of her body.

“Oh,” he said, almost pulling away before pressing another kiss to her neck, to the pulse there, sucking on her skin. “I brought some home. Lento’s.” 

Surprised, she pulled away. “Is it getting cold?” She wondered. 

“I left it on the porch to open the door, so probably,” he admitted, and she smiled at him; he kissed her grinning lips before setting her back down. “I love this,” he said as she ducked out onto the porch, grabbing the bags...and a bouquet of flowers.

“Love what?” She asked, as his hands hooked around her waist and he pulled her back against him, as she clutched the food and flowers.

“This outfit,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “What do you call these?” 

“Rompers,” she said, sighing as his arms tightened. 

“I love you in rompers,” he said, releasing her and she walked to the kitchen, feeling more than hearing him follow her. 

The flowers were gorgeous, a delicate bouquet of lilacs and red and pink roses. 

“They’re beautiful, and so heady,” Melinda murmured, taking a deep inhale. 

“The lilac reminded me of you,” he said. 

“I usually wear lavender,” she said, surprised again, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“You didn’t on that beach trip when we were engaged,” he told her, brushing a lock of hair back behind her ear for her. “You didn’t pack it and you wanted something so you bought lilac at a shop in town.” 

His hands cradled her face, and he moved in, capturing her lips again, and she smiled through the kiss, wrapping her arms around him, again letting him distract her. 

Because kisses like this didn’t come often. Not in a busy family, not in busy working lives. 

No, she thought. Kisses like these were hard to come by. Who cared about food? 

“Thirty years,” Jim said, breaking away. “I’ve got thirty years of kissing you like this.” He kissed her again, lightly, moving leisurely away to unpack the food. “And about thirty more years to go, I hope.” 

“Me too,” she said, grabbing a few dishes. 

“Andi’s sleeping over at Mariah’s, right?” He asked, sliding a hand over her ass as he unpacked the food. 

She moaned as his fingers briefly slid under the hem before going back to the food. 

“Yeah, she is,” she managed to say, pouring wine in two glasses. “Let’s eat at the coffee table,” she suggested, and he nodded, taking the two plates in.

He’d bought her favorite chicken dish, with a soup on the side and a fresh fruit salad.

He knew what she liked. He knew that she couldn’t eat french fries every day anymore and it would just slide off. She’d been making a conscientious move towards cleaner living, as much as she loved pizza, and he’d been so very accommodating. 

She looked at him over the rim of her wine glass, seeing the barest touches of gray in his hair, the deeper creases at his eyes, and around his mouth, watching his large hands as he cut up the chicken, looking at lips as he sipped wine. 

He was beautiful. As beautiful as he’d been when she’d married him.

“I can’t decide,” she said, tilting her head, looking at the broad shoulders still present beneath his scrubs. 

“What?” He asked, taking a bite of chicken. 

“If I love you more now than I did when I married you,” she said. “Because my heart was pretty damn full then too.” 

His lips moved into a smile and he reached to take her hand; she put down her fork and slid her hand into his, just letting the moment wash over them. It was the little things now. It had always been the little things but now more so.

She slid her hand from his and they returned to the food, an implicit agreement in their minds to finish dinner before getting dizzy over each other again. 

She could feel the tension grow, though, there was static in the air and not just because of the rainstorm. The clink of the silverware seemed heightened; everything did. 

They finished and she stood up, taking his plate; he took her wine glass and they walked to the kitchen, placing the dishes in the sink. 

“It’s just a few, let me wash them up,” Jim said, his eyes blazing into her even as he said the words and she nodded a bit shakily, taking the opportunity to dash upstairs and reapply her lipgloss because he liked the taste, and she wanted to taste good for him, wandering back downstairs to find him back in the living room, holding a box out to her. 

She smiled. “Just a second,” she said, grabbing hers out of the hall closet, and running to sit beside him; he’d set up pillows on the couch before the fireplace and she joined him there, bringing her legs underneath her.

They traded gifts; Melinda opened hers and bit her lip, already in love. It was a bracelet, delicate silver charms; on the back of each was a word. 

Jim’s arm came around her, he tucked her into his side, pulling her close. “It’s a lyric from a song that Aiden liked a few years ago,” he said. “Maybe more than a few years ago. When he was in high school.” He cleared his throat, lowering his head to her neck, breathing her in for a moment. “Don’t go home without me,” he whispered. “That lyric always stuck with me. I don’t know, I had it engraved on the back because...I don’t want to leave you. Ever.” 

She leaned in, kissed his lips, letting him taste her tears, and she swore she heard a sob catch in his throat as they kissed, until she was on his lap, sliding between his legs, her legs arching over his as his arms were tight around her, holding her there. 

“Yours now,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against him. 

He opened it, a smile appearing on his face. “A new watch,” he said.

“It’s simple but yours is so water damaged from never taking it to wash your hands,” she chuckled. “You’re a rich doctor, you needed a better one.” 

“I hate taking the old one off, but this looks amazing,” he admitted. “Antique?” 

“Of course,” she breathed. “Sort of. Mock antique; new battery.” 

He slid his old one off, about to put the new one on. “Wait,” she said. “There’s another reason I bought it. And you aren’t the only one who likes engraving things.” 

He smiled, turning it over.

“I didn’t choose the message originally, I admit,” she whispered. “But it means the same no matter what. Forever, Jim. You gave me forever.” 

There was a hitch; both their breaths caught and they knew they were remembering the same thing.

And then Jim was groaning, putting the watch aside, lowering her onto the floor before the fireplace; she realized he’d placed soft blankets down and oh, god, that was a good idea.

The fire was crackling, and his hands were moving over her, his lips were on hers, and his body was taut, holding himself over her. 

She could taste that the wine on his mouth, he must have had another glass and oh, god, that was a good idea too. 

His lips were so tender and hungry, pulling gasps and moans from her, things that only made his touches better, more thoughtful, to better pleasure her, to give her that maximum jolt; he knew her body so well, his fingers were dipping behind her knees, something that always made her buck; cresting up her thighs before the rompers, coming up to skate over her waist before getting to the good parts again, slowly dragging her rompers down—the neckline stretched—until she was bare before him; no bra. 

“I didn’t realize,” he breathed, hands warm, eyes dark, wicked, as he looked up at her face for a moment. “I wasn’t watching hard enough. God, Mel.” 

She whimpered as his lips descended, finding one nipple immediately, doing what she loved to it; as his mouth moved to her other breast, and his hands were tugging the rompers down more, sliding them over her hips; the waist stretched too. 

And she loved how he made her feel, still made her feel. She loved that he made her come; that if she didn’t, that just meant he tried harder, went farther. 

Their lips were meeting again, and she felt dizzy on the embrace, as his clothes finally started to come off, as the body she  _ adored  _ was revealed to her in all its splendor; with all of its muscles and dips and planes...with the scar in his shoulder that she always, unfailingly, pressed a kiss to. 

And that was always what made him ready for the next step; his fingers slid inside her, brought her closer, made her cry out against him because he  _ always  _ made her feel this way. 

And then  _ he  _ entered her, and she was glad they didn’t need to worry about contraception anymore, those days were blessedly past. It was just him, hard inside her, entering her tight walls, letting her embrace him. 

They went slower these days, something she didn’t mind at all. He explained it as having more control over his body now, and these slow lovemaking sessions made her love him all the more...though if she wanted, they could definitely still go quickly.

But no, she was glad to wait, be patient....until it was perfect. Until their bodies aligned and found the perfect spot to move against each other. Until she could feel the pressure build up until it was done, and she felt the amazing feelings wash over her, and she could feel Jim spilling inside her, sagging over her, holding her tight, whispering her name. 

And it was thirty years, she thought, lazily tracing circles on his back. Thirty years since they’d said I do. Thirty years of...of Jim. 

“I love you, Melinda,” he breathed, as if knowing she needed to hear the words. “Every day, every breath, every second of these last thirty years.” 


End file.
